THE LOST KINGDOM
by SawyerDonovan
Summary: "I have waited for you. For hundreds of years," he hissed. "Born again only to die. And you can't handle this?" It is her curse, her gifted fate, her blood was the ancient link between light and absolute darkness. He had fallen from grace, tasked to protect her, knowing the price for such devotion, for such love in the battle against the ultimate evil. EricxTris Divergent AU ERIS.
1. THE BIRTH AND DEATH OF THE DAY

****NOTE:**** _ _So this different than what I normally write. It starts in the year 2025 and then with jump 150 years ahead to where Tris, Eric and the others will make their appearance. This is not Tris in the prologue, but rather an unfortunate descendant of hers.__

 ** **DISCLAIMER**** : I do not own Divergent, the book, the idea or characters. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie or at least close to it with a few changes.

 **"** ** **Once upon a time,**** ** **an angel lay dying in the mist.  
**** ** **And a devil knelt over him and smiled.**** **"  
** ** **\- Laini Taylor****

 ** **THE BEGINNING (THE BIRTH AND DEATH OF THE DAY)  
CH**** ** **un**** ** **ICAGO, ILLNOIS  
JUNE 18, 2025 ****

It was in the darkness of the heat smothered night that it came for her.

Creeping through the woods, rustling among the leaves, the laughter of the damned pierced through the silence that hung heavy above her. Loud, high-pitched in its gaiety, they hunted her, their thirst humming, gloating at the promise of her blood.

They and it lusted for her death.

She had run for months, searching for a way to escape the nightmares of torment, the visions of damnation that bled out, covering her dreams as the very world she knew collapsed in a ruin of madness around her.

Countries and states torn apart by war, the very foundation of society destroyed as families turned on one another until all that remained behind were burned ruins, the land soaked in the blood of the fallen.

She stood at the edge of the lake, her body slim and straight, refusing to acknowledge the rage that burned deep within her for what had been done and for all that had been lost. She refused to let it taint what she knew were to be her last moments.

She refused to give in to its hatred.

She had lost her family long before the madness. She had wept when she buried her lover, grieved as she was forced to send her only child away into the protection of strangers with an oath that they would ensure the child's survival.

She no longer feared death as she had been forced accept the one fact she had always denied.

Her blood was her curse.

Her family's legacy of the unknown gift descended through the female bloodline to carry the burden of the fates.

Her death would end this darkness and the next female descendant would be reborn into the light.

She had formed the circle near the lake, lighting the fires to surround her as she knelt in the center and waited knowing it would come.

It was older than the written word, the source, the embodiment of all evil. It punished and terrorized, feeding on fear and the darkness of hatred as its power grew.

Many civilizations had fallen to its thirst for power, for the wrath of its chosen god.

Itself.

It would awaken, it would seek the one, only to taste the tainted blood and it would start all over again.

She gripped the dagger her lover had gifted her, drawing the blade across her palm, bright red spilling forth, her blood covering the purple amulet she tightly held. Softly she began to the chant her mother had unknowingly taught her as child, pouring her power into the stone, sealing it with her blood before re-attached the amulet around her neck.

She smelt brimstone before the screams erupted in her mind, the madness of the visions, the promise of fire and death in its intensity, the force driving her to fall forward.

Gasping, she struggled, stumbling, pushing herself to her feet as it circled her, taking shape, forming as light flooded around her.

"You gave me a merry chase," Its form smiled at her, almost pleasantly. "Better than most."

She gasped, pain welling in her chest at the sight before her.

It had taken the face of her love. His voice, his scars, his beauty. But it was in his darkness of his eyes that she saw it lurking. Lifeless, cold, hungering for her blood, for her hatred.

She would not give it the satisfaction. She would not plead for her life or whimper for a quick end.

She would not break.

"All this effort, all the concern you have for a world that will be mine." He hummed lightly, circling her, his fingers teasing the strands of honey blonde hair. "All of it. All the sons and daughters of morning."

"Why do even need them? Are they your children? Its me want you. My blood." She held her bleeding palm, taunting him, offering it a taste. "All of the rest should matter not."

A sinister smile curved his lips as he reached out, sliding his fingers across her palm, pleased she did not shiver in fear at his touch.

He licked the blood from his fingers, unable to mask the disappointment flooding his features.

"Almost but not quite. I will find the one. I will drain each and every member of your family until I do." He hissed, anger sipping into its tone as she begin to laugh. "I will destroy her. Drain her light, her pureness. All for mine."

"My child is safe. You will not have him today."

The earth trembled, the fire of the circle leapt into the darkened sky as she reached out, wrapping her arms around him, anchoring him as she back into the lake, her amulet glowing lending her the strength she needed to hold him.

"With your own design, I bind you to me. I bind your evil." Her voice raised, defiant as the winds rose and howled. "No one can you harm until the blood of pure is spilled. Wind of the north, fire of the south, I bind thee. For the good of all. So mote it be."

Her lungs burned, her heart slowing, her mind filled with love as she thought of her lover and their, her blood mixed with the water as the amulet's light dimmed, trapping it.

And still she held on until she was no more.


	2. THE CHOICE

**D** **ISCLAIMER:** I do not own Divergent, the book, the idea or characters. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie or at least close to it with a few changes.

" **WHAT IS LIGHT WITHOUT DARKNESS"**

 **TRIS PRIOR  
** **CHICAGO, ILLINOIS  
** **MAY 31, 2175**

She awoke in darkness to the soft, steady patter of rain against the tin roof, sweat plastering her thin, white nightgown to her trembling body as she gasped, deeply drawing in a sharp and shuddering breath.

Pushing the tangled mass of silky honey blonde hair from her face, she quietly crept to the edge of her bed, staring out into the midnight hours from the small bedroom window, her senses raw and exposed.

The winds howled loudly, white lightening crackling violently through the sky, plastering the torrent of rain that was steadily growing in its intensity against the glass pane, her body was stiff and restless as she leaned her forehead against its surface, watching in desolation as shadows drifted past one another.

Why did it seem so endless? A haunting nightmare of a lost time that was waiting for her, watching her, taunting her to come out and play.

It was because of this that Beatrice Prior no longer slept.

She had been haunted by her dreams for the last several months since twenty-first birthday. Each dream different, but still the same, growing in intensity as each night passed.

Blood and brimstone, something that licked beneath the fiery surface, hungry and alive, promising her death.

Her death and the death of millions. A turning of the world to an unknown darkness.

She had become afraid to sleep.

But this night had been different.

She had dreamt of him again.

His face was strong, sharp bones, the curved sculpted lips, a reflection of haunting male beauty with bronzed skin. His leanness was dangerously deceptive, for it was all muscle, conditioned graceful strength. A sort of sensuality and masculinity that only made her think of sweaty skin and twisted sheets.

But it was his eyes that burned her, frightened her even.

Tiny prisms of light seemed to catch, blue swirling together with silver in an unusual magnetic mixture of lightened darkness, holding her gaze captive.

She had felt the strength his hands on her body, her breath catching as he pressed her wrists to the mattress, holding her captive as he tasted her, making her moan, marking her as his.

Warming her when nothing else could.

It would be so good, she imagined, so wanton.

It would be wrong.

But his taste had warned her, to be prepared for the dawn, his dark whispered promise for the storm that was coming.

To be prepared for him.

* * *

 **ERIC COULTER  
** **CHICAGO, ILLINOIS  
** **MAY 31, 2175**

A crash of thunder rumbled, rain unexpectedly pounding against the window as he sat up in the bed, the blankets falling around his waist, his bare chest covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his heart pounding at a rapid rate, his adrenaline slowly surging.

Swearing viciously under his breath, he scrubbed the palms of his hands against his stubble covered cheeks, struggling to separate his reality from fantasy.

He had dreamed of her again.

Her taste, her beauty as he lowered her to the bed, her glossy hair falling around her shoulders in a shimmering mass, ribbons of her dusky skin peeked teasingly through the silken strands, tempting him, teasing him.

He was haunted by her.

Dampened slick golden flesh, moving frantically against, beneath one another, molten fire reflecting in the russet depths, clawing, moaning, pressing to be closer if possible.

Her dark eyes unable to hide the love that would curse and seal her fate.

Naked, he crossed his bedroom, bracing his hands on the window frame as he stared out into the darkness, watching as the waves of rain pounded the ground.

His tattoos burned.

The intricate designs of his forearms, a vicious reminder, mocking him of the what fact he could no longer ignore or deny.

Tomorrow had finally arrived.

* * *

 **TRIS PRIOR  
** **CHICAGO, ILLINOIS  
** **JUNE 1, 2175**

Silently Beatrice Prior walked behind her family, barely listening to the murmur of their voices and steadily ignoring whatever questions they directed to her.

The breeze picked up the hem of her dress, swirling the grey material, pressing the cloth against the length of her legs, outlining the slender shape. Folds of the cloth billowed slightly behind her, creating graceful shadows, the gravel of the pavement crunching beneath her brown ankle boots.

She looked almost fragile, blonde strands of hair escaping her low-rising bun, dark shadows of exhaustion lighting her eyes.

She walked towards the Choosing Ceremony through the ruins of a once great city that fallen 150 years prior during the dark period.

The religious prophets has called it Judgment Day while the intellects called them fools.

Battles and judgment had raged for months bleeding into years,and then one day, it just stopped almost as suddenly as it had once started.

The hatred, the desire for destruction had faded and what remained of civilization had awoken as if from some terrible dream with little memory of how or why it had happened.

All that was understood was that the world they once knew had been destroyed.

The founders of the new world order had built the wall around the city of Chicago intent to keep them safe, and what had remained had society had been divided into Factions. Each Faction would serve a different purpose but all with the common goal to prevent future conflict and preserve what fragile peace remained.

Everybody has their place. Everyone knew where they belonged.

Except for her.

She had taken her test, the test promised to tell which Faction she was to belong too.

But something had gone wrong.

The Dauntless woman named Tori had frantically pulled her from her chair, insisting she leave through the back door and let her family know that the serum had make her sick.

She was special, unique, Tori had insisted. Unable to fit in the mold that the Founders had created, free of choice and will more than any other.

She was Divergent and that very fact could cost her her life.

But even then Tori had explained there was something more, something she had never seen before in any test. A sort of lightness that the darkness craved.

Tris knew she should stay with Abnegation, hide amongst her Faction. Be pale, lifeless, blending into the masses and doing as she was told for the rest of her life.

It shouldn't be hard. It was something she had done for as long as she could remember. Never stepping around the corner, never challenging what she knew to be wrong.

But she could no longer stay away from the sun. One test had assured of that fact.

She watched as her parents greeted other member of the Council, turning away in time to see a Candor boy dressed in black and white, violently yank something from the grasp of a Factionless woman as she desperately tried to hold onto her food.

"Beatrice, no."

Tris paused, glancing at her brother's impassive face and she shrugged off his restraining hand, ignoring her parents warning.

She stepped forward into the street, knocking the unsuspecting Candor boy to the side, standing between him and the woman he had chosen to be the victim of his taunts.

"You have a problem Stiff?" He sneered, his green eyes narrowing with disdain.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Tris snapped, raising her chin, frostily meeting his contempt with her own. "Especially with a little boy pretending to be the man by punishing a Factionless woman. I find it to be pathetically sad, if you want the truth of it."

Her words drew the attention of others surrounding the situation and at the sound of their snickering, the Candor boy turned a furious red, stepping forward intent on regaining his position.

"Peter, leave it."

Peter stiffened at his father's warning before glaring viciously at the highly amused Abnegation girl, silently promising his revenge.

"Better hurry back to mommy and daddy." Tris smirked. "Wouldn't want to upset them."

Sighing as Peter stalked away, Tris turned, crouching down to help the fallen woman sit up, grimacing when she saw the tatters of her food smashed into the ground.

"I know it isn't much, but it's all I have with me." Tris pulled a thick, crusty bread from her brown satchel, placing into the hands of the Factionless.

"You didn't have do that." The woman's voice sounded weak.

"Yes, I did. In fact, I sort of enjoyed it so I should be thanking you." Tris leaned over, grasping the chain on the necklace that had fallen to the ground from the woman's grasp in her struggle with Peter.

She held the necklace, suprised such as beautiful treasure would belong to someone deemed to be worthless and lost.

The amethyst amulet rested in her palm and as she watched the stone seemed to burn, the dark purple, swirling, brightening almost glowing with its force. Tris felt her hand twitch, her fingers aching to close around it and keep it as her own.

It someway it felt as if it belonged to her.

"Well, well isn't that interesting." The woman murmured, her eyes sharply cutting upwards, examining Tris' features. "I believe this belongs to you."

"I can't take this."

"You must," the woman insisted, holding up a hand. "It's been searching for you. It will protect you. His dawn is coming. You must be ready."

"I don't understand," Tris stammered slightly. "Who's dawn?"

"He will frighten you at first. Hurt you, push you, tempt you, but you must trust him. If you don't, there is no hope. For anyone."

"Trust who?"

"Beatrice!" Her father's insistent voice cut through their conversation, the tight angry sound causing Tris to turn to him, raising a hand before looking for the woman.

She could see the tattered clothing of the Factionless woman as she ran down the street, disappearing into the crowd and for a moment she wondered if it had been a dream.

She slid the gifted amulet in her pocket, attempting to look apologetic as she returned to her family.

* * *

 **TRIS PRIOR  
** **CHICAGO, ILLINOIS  
** **JUNE 1, 2175**

Her brother had chosen Erudite.

There were gasps, whispers of speculation and Tris sat stunned at the choice her brother had made. Caleb had been primed, molded almost from birth to take her father's place on the council and maintain control of the Factions.

And he had chosen what his heart knew to be true.

"Beatrice Prior."

Natalie Prior squeezed her hand as she stood, placing a soft kiss against the surface, whispering her love.

It was as if her mother knew. Knew the struggle, the conflict twisting through her stomach.

As the blade drew across her skin, blood welling in her palm, she questioned did she trust her heart and leave behind the only life she knew or did stay, protected in the walls of the selfless community.

She out the last of her regret, her shame, shedding her fear as drops of bright red blood fell, sizzling against the black stone.

"Dauntless."

Her choice had been made.


	3. THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Divergent, the book, the idea or characters. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie or at least close to it with a few changes.

" **HOPE BEGINS IN THE DARK"**

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS  
JUNE 1, 2175

Tris felt her breath catch, a scream catching in the back of her throat as she leapt, defying gravity, hurling her body from the fast moving train towards the building's ledge, the world trembling beneath her feet.

She let go of her tight grasp on the former Candor's hand, landing on the roof with one knee bent, the other leg stretched out behind her, leaning forward with her arms supporting her.

She rose from her crouched position, her spine straightening, surprised at the graceful ease which she managed to land. Laughing softly, she tilted her head back, the late afternoon sun burning her upturned face.

"How did you manage that?" Christina gasped as she stumbled to her feet, pressing a hand to her side, attempting to ease the soreness of her ribs. "Land on your feet?"

"I have no idea." Tris admitted to her newly found friend, barely resisting the urge to spin in a gleeful circle, her eyes alight with vibrant excitement, a smile she was unable to control curving her lips. "I just did it."

She had placed the amulet around her neck after she had chosen her new Faction, she had felt a newfound sense of possibilities.

Almost a immediately a glowing sensation raced up her spine, strengthening her body, lightening her movements. So dizzying, so sharp, so fast, she struggled to catch her breath.

And then it had ended as quickly as it had begun, but she knew something had changed.

She had changed.

It was wonderful, she realized as her mind raced. She felt recklessly foolish, amazingly free as the wind whipped through her hair, the strength unwinding the tight bun, leaving a tangle of honeyed strands tumbling down her back.

Her father had been furious with her choice.

Andrew Prior's angered face had paled, his trembling lips pressed together in a scowl of displeasure. But her mother. Her mother's eyes had glowed fiercely with pride and a shadow of relief had passed quickly across her face.

Her father had run her life, her choices with a firm hand. Never unkind, but never overly affectionate, he had possessed little patience and understanding for what he considered unpredictable spirited daughter.

Her every movement, each statement and breath had been analyzed, twisted and turned inside out leaving only a bitter taste of dissatisfaction.

She had been desperate to breathe. And now she could.

Tris grabbed Christina's hand, shouldering ahead as the new initiates walked towards the leaders of Dauntless awaiting their arrival.

He stood motionless on the edge of the war torn building, poised in the fading light casting shadows across his chiseled features. His shoulders stretched against the fabric of his black jacket, the suggestion of power emphasized by the strong line of his back tapering down to lean hips, the muscular ease of his stance evident. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, a faux hawk of light brown hair shot through with streaks of dark blonde.

Confidence, she decided, watching as he lazily walked along the thin ledge with the ease, his powerful body relaxed, all long bone and hard muscle. It seemed so easy for him. Being in control, a sea of nameless face didn't jangled his nerves or shake his poise in the least.

She let her gaze trail over the bronzed curve of his jaw and finely carved nose before settling on his eyes, her breath drawing in sharply.

She knew him.

She knew his taste.

He had haunted her dreams for months, pushing her, taunting her.

Loving her.

"Alright, listen up. My name's Eric. I'm one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in. And if you don't jump then you don't belong in Dauntless."

There was something lethal in his choice of wording, his movements, a predator's grace and power.

No, she acknowledged with a shiver of appreciation. He looked as hard and as cold as his position demanded that he be.

He was a trained soldier, the youngest and most ruthless leader of his Faction. His eyes burned with the truth of a dangerous age.

"Is the water at the bottom or something?" Tris glanced over her shoulder at the young man dressed in dark blue, his brow crinkled, worry etched across his handsome face.

"I guess you'll find out." Eric taunted softly, watching them through narrowed eyes as Tris stiffened at his tone. "Or not."

"We just jumped and he wants us to jump again." she heard Christina murmur softly, running her hand through her already disheveled dark hair.

"Well someone has to go first. Who's it going to be?"

No hand was raised.

He smiled slowly, deliberately, adding almost a wicked coldness to his features. He took a step, sleek muscles contracting and gracefully fell back, his arms stretched out wide to the side.

Tris gasped, quickly moving forwards, her hand uselessly reached out as if to stop him. She walked towards the ledge, pulling her grey cotton coat from her shoulders as she went.

She would follow him. Willing. She just needed his name.

"Yeah, Stiff, take it off." Peter scoffed, laughing loudly at his own comment. "No, put it back on."

Steadily, she ignored Peter's comment, throwing her jacket in his face as she passed him. She balanced, staring down into the dark hole that beckoned her.

Jump, she thought, just jump and be brave.

Without hesitation she leapt forward, shrieking lightly as her body plunged into the darkness. For a moment, she felt weightless, free falling until she abruptly bounced against a heavy netting.

A hand grasped the edge of the net, yanking the thick ropes, causing her body to tilt to the side.

His mouth curved, slow and devilish into that familiar smirk that taunted her dreams as his striking cerulean blue eyes locked on hers. The intense gaze darkened as her caressed over her form, examining the glossy mass of chestnut and blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulder and midway down her back to the curve of breasts and and her slender legs peeking out beneath her grey dress.

She felt the strength of his hands as his head bent toward her, staring directly into her eyes, trapping her in the burning possession she saw there , making her blood rush hotly through her veins.

The man pressed against her cleverly assaulting her senses was not an illusion. He was finally flesh and blood that made her want to taste the texture of his skin.

Arousing, irresistible. Fatal.

Those words suited him well.

"I should have known." he murmured to himself.

Eric Coulter's stomach muscles contracted abruptly in reaction to the petite blonde peering up at him through thick black lashes, her luminous eyes glossed with shadows of shared dreams.

She reached out placing her hands on the curve of his broad shoulders as she attempted to smile.

He took an infinitely long getting her to the ground, however. His hands spanned her waist when he pulled her towards him. His hand scorched through the thin material on her lower back, feeling the softness, the delicate bones.

His tongue slid over his bottom lip, pulling it back between his teeth as she gripped his forearms for balance. Shivers of awareness crept over her arms and down her spine as he held her gaze steadily.

"What's your name?" He rasped the question that had haunted him for months.

Wordlessly she stared at him.

"Today initiate."

Her eyes narrowed, the tapered chin tilted in a challenge towards him. The woman facing him didn't lack self-confidence, and she didn't appear the least intimidated by him now.

She would give him what he challenged, what he demanded of her.

She was not weak.

Eric recognized that fact immediately, so intense, so potent he felt the thickening in his blood and lower body. She was small, almost delicately built, high-planned cheeks, her skin a dusky gold.

He wasn't smiling but there was the briefest flash of amusement through his intense eyes.

"Tris," her voice soft, breathless. She wet her lower lip with her tongue, her cheeks flushing as his gaze tracked the movement. "My name is Tris."

"First jumper - Tris." She laughed at the resounding echo of cat calls and cheers as Eric's hand clenched on her waist at the sound. "Welcome to Dauntless."


End file.
